


My Broken Night

by aderyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Clairvoyance, Inspired by Music, and what we do anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:23:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn/pseuds/aderyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John can see the future.</p>
<p>It’s murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Broken Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moranion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moranion/gifts).



> Title and inspiration from Leonard Cohen's [ “The Future.”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnaxvBsyigM) Music and murder and a very happy birthday to [Moranion!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Moranion/pseuds/Moranion)

_“I've seen the future, brother:  
it is murder.”—Leonard Cohen, “The Future”_

From the minute they meet, John Watson knows Sherlock Holmes is going to die. Not when or how, but sooner than later. And that he’ll be broken again.

*****

“John,” Sherlock says, “come with me.”

John sees a flash of pink, a wash of wool, the fog he’ll be abandoned to.

He goes.

*****

He hasn’t been like this in years, one foot at a frontier he oughtn’t to cross.

The desert guarded its visions, as London before.

Sherlock gives them back with a wink.

*****

It’s dark, a night split down the middle.

John sees a minefield bright with stars.

“Take my hand,” Sherlock says.

John does.

*****

Wakes to Sherlock in his bed.

“Alright?” Sherlock says.

“You were dreaming.”

“Yes,” John says.

Sees a rooftop, sees wind.

*****

Time projectile, unturnable, the quiet rush of tea and nicotine.  

“She wasn’t killed here,” Sherlock says, slaps on a fourth patch.

_You’ll solve it in eight hours_ , John thinks.

Peels two gently back.

 Can’t say.

*****

New scars. Reflections in a monument.

A dead banker under a bridge, the Ravensbourne slick with spring, a wall tagged “ **Shed Your Suicides,** ” and oh--he stops then, holds Sherlock between the “u” and the “i”, feels the pulse in the tender bends of his elbows, sees the eyes, the mouth, sees love, sees a body.

**Author's Note:**

> "Give me back my broken night  
> my mirrored room, my secret life..."--LC, "The Future"


End file.
